Valentine In My Hood


I woke up at exactly 4:20 am
From my morning doze
In my small Feminist Hub
Valentines was already trending on twitter
Apart from group texts my inbox had one text that read:
“Happy Valentines FemiNinja. Keep Strong!

I had a great morning meditation
Reading the Pen and the Gun by Maina wa Kinyatti
Random thoughts of the struggle running through my brain
I thought about the struggles of the Palestinian people
I thought about the Kurdish women fighting in the mountains
I wondered how Valentine looks like to them
I got stuck in the thoughts of my community
Of Valentine in my hood
Am writing this thing that might qualify to be a poem inside a Changaa baze
It’s already full at 9 a.m
We are all trying to access the Hustlers Fund to make this day a little bit better
We hate it
But we survive through debts
Our options are limited

We are sure not to receive any flowers
But we can buy ourselves something similar
I mean for as long as it grows from soil
It could be Jaba or other herbs
For high happiness
Love happens to be too expensive on this side
We can barely afford it
We are busy paying taxes
And building a whole community from scratch
A community that was mercilessly demolished by this police state
Leaving us homeless
In extreme poverty
We never knew how homelessness could be too close to home
Physically we never look sad
But deep inside we are lonely, frustrated, depressed, tormented
Guess who is the master behind all of this?
Poverty, well organized poverty by this shit system
Deep inside we cry
You will wonder why we have stomach ulcers
It’s the acidity in the tears we don’t let flow down our cheeks
We swallow them instead
They burn our stomachs
Leaving us with an ulcer and a tortured brain

What’s love in a society where everything is commodified?
But guess what?
I have an idea of someone I could have posted and probably caption it:
‘Revolutionary Valentine wishes Freedom’
Because am in love with freedom
Great illustrations!!!
I love how they look at me and ask
“Did you finish the article you were writing comrade?”
Then my heart whispers
‘Why can’t I just write about you super smart cutie’
Then my brain stares at my heart like WTF is wrong with you!
My heart humbles
Then my mouth answers
‘Kamaradi, I was reading a book by Issa Shivji
He has a great analysis on how equality among unequals is inequitable
A great discussion on class struggle emerges
My undying love for freedom!!!
Oooh! How I crave for freedom
My heart
It must hate me for all the times I have left it stranded chasing my brains
I have died inside so many times that life has became a rare surprise

I might black out at 4:20pm
After my evening doze
In my Feminist Hub
After a short day of reading, drinking, writing,
organizing, and maintaining my feminist principles
The struggle doesn’t stop, can’t stop!
We continue
Organizing and educating to enable liberation
People’s liberation, our liberation
Till Freedom!!!
Till Love is Free!!!
Till love is more accessible than drugs!
Till valentine will be freedom

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Visited 452 Times, 2 Visits today

Also in the current issue